Part 28 (2/2)
A little game in the back room.”
”And are you going to play, Ike?”
”Not to-night, thank you. I aint no saint, but I aint a blank fool altogether, and to-night I got to keep level. To-day's the boss's remittance day. He's got his cheque, I've heard, and they're goin' to roll him.”
”Roll him?”
”Yes, clean him out. So I surmise it'd be wise for me to be on hand.”
”Why, what have you got to do with it, Ike?”
Ike paused for a few moments, while he filled his pipe, preparatory to going out.
”Well, that's what I don't right know. It aint any of my own business.
Course he's my boss, but it aint that. Somehow, that Kiddie has got a hitch onto my innards, and I can't let him get away. He's got such a blank slick way with him that he makes you feel like doin' the things you hate to do. Why, when he smiles at you the sun begins to s.h.i.+ne.
That's so. Why, you saw that race this afternoon?”
”Yes, the last heat.”
”Well, did you observe Slipper come in?”
”Well, yes, I did. And I could not understand why Slipper was not running. Why didn't you run him, Ike?”
”Why?” said Ike, ”that's what I don't know. There aint nothin' on four legs with horsehide on in these here Territories that can make Slipper take dust, but then--well, I knowed he had money on the Swallow. But I guess I must be goin'.”
”But what are you going to do?”
”Oh, I'll fall down somewheres and go to sleep. You see lots of things when you're asleep, providin' you know how to accomplish it.”
”Shall I go with you?” asked Shock.
Ike regarded him curiously.
”Guess you wouldn't care to be mixed up in this kind of thing. But blame it, if I don't think you'd stay with it if it was in your line, which it aint.”
”But suppose you get into difficulty.”
”Well,” said Ike, smiling a slow smile, ”when I want you I'll send for you,” and with that he pa.s.sed out into the night.
XII
HIS KEEPER
Till long after midnight Shock sat over the fire pondering the events of the day, and trying to make real to himself the strange series of happenings that had marked his introduction to his work in this country. His life for the last month had been so unlike anything in his past as to seem quite unnatural.
As he sat thus musing over the past and planning for the future, a knock came to the door, and almost immediately there came in a little man, short and squat, with humped shoulders, bushy, grizzled hair and beard, through which peered sharp little black eyes. His head and face and eyes made one think of a little Scotch terrier.
”Ye're the meenister?” he said briefly.
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